


don't look away

by quiescents



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Ginny Weasley, Carrows Reign at Hogwarts, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Love/Hate, Moral Ambiguity, Non-Graphic Violence, POV Ginny Weasley, Second War with Voldemort, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 16:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15889854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiescents/pseuds/quiescents
Summary: Any port in a storm, as they say. Or, Ginny learns that the easy answer isn't always the right one.





	don't look away

**Author's Note:**

> Set during Deathly Hallows

"Leave."

Only Pansy Parkinson could sound that imperious trying to order people out of their own dorm, Ginny thought. Her reflex was to retaliate, fingers already twitching towards her wand, but then she looked over at Pansy properly, and her hand froze halfway there. Her dormmates seemed similarly perplexed, glancing from Pansy to each other. An uncertain giggle broke out from someone, and the air crackled audibly. Goosebumps broke out across Ginny's skin.

"I said _get out_ , you fucking vermin, unless you want a few dates with the Carrows," Pansy spat, inky black hair falling into her face. A thin cut stretched along one cheekbone, blood dripping sluggishly down her face and neck. Her eyes were even more revealing, wide and slightly manic as they darted between each of the room's occupants.

"Are you deaf? _Leave_. I have business with Weasley." With an almost invisible movement of her wrist, her wand was out of her robe pocket and pointed at Ginny's roommates.

"Shut up, Parkinson," Ginny said, sitting up and giving her a hard look. "You have no right to come in here making threats. Last I checked, you weren't a Gryffindor."

Pansy's lower lip trembled slightly, and her grip tightened on her wand, knuckles white. Ginny scowled, taking a moment to listen. There was only the normal muted din of conversation filtering up from the common room, nothing concerning. It was safe to assume nobody had sent her, then. Pansy had come here on her own.

"I'll be fine," she murmured, nodding towards the door. "Easier just to see what she wants."

The other girls were quick to leave, though they still gawked at Pansy on their way out. Some Gryffindors they were. With the quiet click of the door closing, the two of them were alone.

"Well, what is it then?" Ginny asked, fingers closing around her wand as she sized the other girl up. Purple bruises were already peeking out from beneath the collar of Pansy's shirt. Now that she was looking more closely, Ginny saw that her knuckles were bloody too, and winced sympathetically. She'd thrown her fair share of punches, some of them to walls, but she was one thing. Imagining prim and proper Pansy venting her frustration in the same way was oddly uncomfortable.

"Oh, nothing, Weasley, just thought I'd come up for tea," Pansy said with a sneer, tucking her wand away and wiping at her eyes angrily. The addition of smeared mascara certainly didn't make her look any more composed, but Ginny wondered when she'd stopped seeing her as ugly.

"Just tell me what you want or don't. I'm not in the mood to deal with you treating me like a child tonight."

For a moment, the only sound in the room was that of Pansy's ragged breathing. For one hysterical instant, Ginny feared that the whole tower would hear it and _know_. She cast a silencing charm, her own hand shaking too now.

The last bit of Pansy's composure broke. She shook her head, a few tears escaping her now.

"Please...just...we can hardly even defend each other in Slytherin anymore. It's not the way it used to be. I just need to be...not there, for a little while..." Here, like this, she almost seemed a completely different person from the reigning bitch of Slytherin, one of the Carrows' eager enforcers. The longer Ginny's eyes lingered on her, the more little signs of damage she found. A small rip in her blouse here, a bruise there...

She got up from her bed, walking over to Pansy.

"You hurt people worse than this every day. Kids." As she spoke, Ginny slid Pansy's robe off her shoulders.

"I go easy on them as much as I can, when I'm not being watched. You don't get what it's like." Pansy glowered, clearly affronted by Ginny's comment, but cooperated easily with the undressing. She didn't even bat an eye when Ginny started unbuttoning her shirt.

Ginny scoffed, face heating with a mixture of anger and pity. Her fingertips accidentally grazed the forest green lace of a bra strap, and perhaps in another situation she'd be distracted by the sight of Pansy in front of her like this, but in the moment, all she could focus on was all the little injuries in need of healing. Biting her lip, she cast the shirt aside onto her bed, starting to cast healing charms.

"I'm perfectly capable of doing that myself," Pansy said, prodding at Ginny's forearm. "I've been healing myself for a long time." Her tone was growing colder again, crisper. The crackle of panic in the air had calmed.

"And yet you haven't tonight," Ginny replied, barely even slowing. The silence stretched between them for a moment, thick as molasses.

"Vincent's been getting difficult to control when Draco's away. He enjoys it, the violence. He was going after Astoria tonight, and I stepped in."

"You were protecting her," Ginny said blankly, gaze moving from a scrape along Pansy's side to meet sharp, dark eyes.

"You seem to think Gryffindor has a monopoly on defending the weak. Fraternity is a Slytherin value, and always has been. We take care of our own."

Clearly Crabbe had missed the memo on that one, but Ginny resisted the urge to fire back with a snappy retort.

"Why did you come here?" she asked instead, moving her focus to the cut on Pansy's face. Pansy made no move to put her shirt back on, seeming entirely disinterested in the whole situation.

"I knew you would help me. I didn't want to risk anyone else, but I don't care if you get in trouble," she said, voice deadpan. A slight grimace as she examined her nails was Pansy's only reaction to the pain of the cut closing.

"You're lying."

"Maybe."

"What are you even doing with me?" Ginny asked, crossing her arms and taking a half step back.

"I should be the one asking you that," Pansy said, effortlessly healing her own knuckles. "After all, I'm the bad guy here. What would everyone say if they knew you were meeting a Death Eater in broom closets?"

"You're not a Death Eater." Ginny gave a sharp, short sigh, hoping her roommates would stay away awhile longer. As if to emphasize her point, she trailed her fingers over the pale, unmarked skin of Pansy's left arm.

"Close enough in your eyes."

"It's a distraction from how fucked up my entire bloody life has gotten. I'm not _telling_ you anything. I'm not betraying the cause. And I...think there's more to you. I'd like to find it." Ginny didn't think Pansy was completely evil, not really, but she often wondered whether they'd have to face each other on the battlefield someday soon. Would she be able to hurt her if she needed to?

Pansy just hummed thoughtfully. She continued to undress until she was left standing there in just her bra and underwear (matching, lace, setting Ginny's face on fire), and then wandered, unhurried, to Ginny's dresser.

"There's more to this too, isn't there?" Pansy arched a brow, rifling through her drawers and helping herself to some of Ginny's pajamas like it was the most natural thing in the world. "I know you, Ginevra. You don't do no strings attached, no matter how much you'd like to think so."

"There's a war on, you know. You can't just..."

"Can't just what? Get into the enemy's bed? Because I think I already am." Sure enough, when Ginny looked over again, Pansy was already sliding under the covers. Swearing under her breath, Ginny balled one hand into a fist, trying hard to remember how much she used to want to get back together with Harry. And then, helplessly, she followed Pansy to bed, closing the curtains around them.

"I hate you."

"Keep telling yourself that, darling," Pansy murmured, a cold hand caressing Ginny's cheek. When she leaned in to kiss her, her lips tasted of mint. "Would it help you to know that I'm terribly afraid, all the time?"

"You want me to hold you, is that what you're saying?" Ginny scoffed, head still swimming from the kiss. Even as she spoke, though, she let her arms wind around Pansy, drawing her closer.

"Naturally. A lady ought to be taken care of." How Pansy could act so composed when she'd been panicking not too long ago, Ginny had no idea. She'd never been able to hide her emotions that well herself.

"If you're the lady here, what does that make me?" she asked, dimming the lights with a lazy flick of her wand.

"Mm, a dashing knight protecting me." Pansy's voice was a lazy drawl now, eyes half-lidded. She was preening like a cat, much how she looked sprawling across Malfoy's lap in public, but it was so much different when _she_ was the one being used like a pillow. "Isn't that all Gryffindors are good for?"

Ginny could tell these days when Pansy was serious and when she was putting on a front. She wasn't sure when that had started either.

"More than Slytherins are good for," she said, giving a noncommittal grunt.

"You wound me." Pansy kissed her again, lips glancing off her jaw, and Ginny was sure she left blood red lipstick marks behind. "I'm staying."

"I assumed as much when you put on my clothes."

"Yes, well..." Pansy shrugged, snuggling closer under the blanket and closing her eyes. She was asleep in minutes, and Ginny would wonder if it really was that easy for her, if she felt no guilt at all, but she overheard things here and there. She saw the way Pansy was rarely alone for long. She was always surrounded by her clique of Slytherin girls, or Malfoy, or Blaise Zabini. Ginny had walked in on her crying in the bathroom once, Daphne Greengrass cooing soothing things to her. It wasn't that easy.

"I hate you," Ginny whispered again, stroking a hand through Pansy's silky hair. "I want to be with Harry. I hate you."

When had she stopped meaning it?

**Author's Note:**

> Women's History, task 10: Write about a relationship that might be considered scandalous  
> Character Appreciation: 6. (house) Gryffindor  
> Trope of the Month: sharing a bed, (item) blanket  
> Book Club: Wade - (dialogue) “You want me to hold you, is that what you’re saying?”, (word) serious, (plot point) threatening someone  
> Amber’s Attic: 12. Let’s fall in love as if the world is on fire, and there’s nothing left but ash and us.  
> Ami’s Audio Admirations: Home Alone - (setting) at night  
> Angel’s Arcade: Vector the Crocodile - (color) green, (house) Slytherin, (trait) confident  
> Lo’s Lowdown: Mai - (word) deadpan  
> Insane House Challenge: 571. (plot point) searching through wardrobe for something to wear  
> Feline Fair: Persian - write about a pureblood  
> Pinata Club: Hard - femslash  
> Days of the Year: Gay Pride - write slash/femslash  
> Seasonal Flowers: Peony - (sexuality) bisexual  
> Shay’s Musical Challenge: The Great Comet of 1812 - write about someone falling in love with someone they shouldn’t be in love with  
> Gryffindor Themed Prompts: (character) Ginny Weasley  
> Sewing 101: Step One - (object) blanket, (word) pain, (color) forest green


End file.
